Caring
by Sajira
Summary: Thranduil had lost his wife centuries ago. He would never stop loving the mother of his son, but he yearned to be loved in return by an elleth he had been courting for decades. His lack of concentration towards his people led her to leave his realm for its own safety. One day, the King was attacked on a hunt. His saviour might be there to help him in more than one way.


This story is dedicated to all those who are waiting for the next chapter of "An Unexpected Guest". I love you all.

~O~

Thranduil sighed as a messenger scared his game away. He was hoping to find some peace and quiet on a hunt, but it seemed his responsibilities as king followed him everywhere he went. He lowered his bow and turned to the messenger.

"My king." The young ellon bowed curtly, trying to regain his breath. "Our borders have been breached by a pack of orcs. They were chasing a lone elleth."

"We have dealt with this before." Thranduil sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Our kind is welcome to find shelter here, any others must be held prisoners or killed."

"Yes, my lord. The thing is..." the messenger paused.

"What is it?"

"The elleth is unharmed. She was seen fighting off the last of the orcs before our patrol could aid her."

"Then she is a gifted warrior. Offer her a position in my guard. Is that all?" the king was not amused at having his hunt interrupted.

"No, my king." The elf shook his head. "There are still wargs in the forest. It would be unwise to keep hunting today."

"I will be the judge of that. Leave." Thranduil turned away and ignored the messenger's protests as he followed the deer's tracks. It didn't take long to find her. A beautiful animal. He crouched behind a bush and watched it graze peacefully as he nocked an arrow.

For the second time, his hunt was interrupted. A large warg jumped to the clearing, trapping the deer between its massive jaws, the orc rider strapped to its saddle dead and limp, flailing as the beast moved. Huffing in indignation, he stood and pulled his bow taut, aiming carefully.

The beast was too fast for him. It heard the king and just as the arrow missed it, barely grazing an ear, it lunged and bit at Thranduil's shoulder. With a cry, he managed to pull out his sword, but the weakness in his arm made him drop it. Just as he was formulating another plan, a dark figure flew down from the treetops and landed on the warg, a flash of iron disappearing in its nape. With a last shuddering breath, the warg fell, releasing Thranduil from its mouth.

Blood and saliva coated the tall king as he studied the stranger. A gasp escaped his lips as he recognized the elleth he had once courted.

"Ninimeth?" he could not believe it. After so many years, she had come back?

"My king." She bowed respectfully and stepped closer, ripping a few shreds from her cloak. Without a word, she pushed his unhurt shoulder so that he would sit on a tree root as she bound his wounds.

"Why have you returned?" he asked.

"Apparently, to save your life." She quipped, but the corner of her lips lifted to a small smile. Thranduil's eyes were drawn to them, and he licked is own, remembering what they felt like against his skin. His eyes were drooping and memories of the elleth in front of him made his head hurt. "No, no." She snapped her fingers in front of his face. "I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you." Thranduil frowned at his words. Had he said that aloud? If he had, she did not comment, but pulled his uninjured arm over her shoulder and lifted him, starting towards the gates of his realm. Ninimeth had to shake him gently a couple of times to keep him awake. Thranduil was much taller than she was, and heavier than she could manage. His bloodloss made him drowsy, muttering in sindarin about long buried memories that clenched at their hearts. After what seemed like forever, they reached a stone path, leading to large doors. "No." He managed to croak out.

"We need to get you to a healer." Ninimeth pulled him upright for the hundredth time.

"My people..." the elleth stopped, seeming to understand him. He had a reputation. Sighing, she steered him off the path to the servant's entrance, taking hidden hallways and stairs to the king's chambers. As they finally reached the royal halls, Thranduil seemed to be at the end of his energy. His knees buckled and gave way to his weight. As much as Ninimeth tried, she could not sustain his limp body, and went down with him, a tapestry ripping under her grasp and falling over them. The harsh movement of the fall briefly woke Thranduil, making him look down at the elleth trapped under him in a compromising position. His eyes studied her reddened face, focusing on her plump lips. His vision became hazy, her voice seemed so far away.

Ninimeth cursed as the last bit of strength left the king and his head fell on her shoulder, trapping her under him, both under a tent of embroidered tapestry, ripped to shreds. She shuddered as his breath tickled her neck and willed her mind to think of a way out of this. She looked around the hall and recognized the familiar doors of his son.

"Legolas!" she called. "Legolas, in the hall!" Luck was on her side, for the prince opened his door and looked around curiously. In the back of her mind she questioned why he was wearing sleeping clothes. Had it really taken so long for her to bring the king back?

"Ada!" the prince called. With his help, they were able to bring Thranduil to his own quarters, laying him on his bed. "What happened? What hurt him? Is he going t—"

"Hey!" Ninimeth was rolling up her sleeves. "I need you to help me. He doesn't want any word of this going around the kingdom, so we can't call a healer." She explained as she unwrapped the makeshift bandages on Thranduil's shoulder. "I need clean cloth, hot water, needle and thread, salve and bandages." Legolas' eyes were wide, but he nodded and went off to search for the supplies she needed. Taking a dagger from her belt, she grasped the king's tunic in her other hand and cut it open, exposing his broad chest to the candlelight. She forced herself to inspect the damage. It wasn't so bad, the cuts would scar, but their healing would be fast. She was mostly concerned about his bloodloss.

Legolas came back with his arms full of supplies and watched as Ninimeth's skilled fingers wiped away the excess blood and cleaned what he recognized to be a large bite mark. Threading a needle, she worked quickly, small, neat stitches ensured that the scarring would be minimal. Legolas aided her in turning his father's body so she could finish her work on his back, then spread strong-smelling salve on the wounds, binding them tightly. Placing a soft pillow under his shoulder, Ninimeth and Legolas peeled the ruined tunic off the king and pulled off his boots.

"What now?" Legolas had been quiet the whole time, only nodding slightly as Ninimeth asked for supplies. It was evident that he was scared for his father.

"He'll be fine." Ninimeth pulled a chair to the bedside and sank to it with a sigh. "You should go back to bed." Legolas opened his mouth to protest, but she talked over him. "You father has lost a lot of blood. It will take at least a month until he is well enough to take care of his own kingdom. As prince, it is your responsibility to step in." She took his hand and squeezed it lightly. "Rest. I'm sure you'll make him proud." The prince nodded and stepped away from the bed.

"I will send for something to eat when he wakes." At Ninimeth's nod, he turned and left.

~O~

Thranduil woke to a raging headache and a dull throb at his left shoulder. Groaning, he opened his eyes to the faint morning light peeking in through the gaps in the closed curtains and found himself in his chambers. Flashes of memory came back to him and he looked around. To his right, Ninimeth was dozing in a chair. She looked very uncomfortable and exhausted, with a frown on her pale features. Her legs were crossed, her right hand on the quilt next to his hip. Her clothes were filthy and worn from travel, dried blood under her fingernails. He inspected himself. He still wore the trousers he had worn to his hunt, his bare feet were warm under the covers. His chest was covered only by the bindings on his left shoulder and halfway tucked under the blanket. Sighing, he reached out his hand to grasp Ninimeth's softly. The movement and touch jostled her awake, green eyes alert and scanning over his form.

"My king." She said as their fingers weaved with each other. "How are you feeling?" her left hand rose to his clammy forehead and she frowned, tsking her tongue in annoyance. "You have a fever."

"I'm fine, Ninimeth." Thranduil closed his eyes at the cool feeling of her hand on his face.

"Uh-huh..." she nodded sarcastically and stood to dip a small piece of cloth in a bowl of water. Wringing it out, she sat on the mattress by his elbow and gently wiped the feverish sweat from his face. He sighed at the cool touch against his skin. Her movements faltered and he opened his eyes to see her concerned face. "I'm sorry I led the orc pack so close." She said. "I caused this."

"Nonesense." He grasped the hand that was resting on his chest and pried the wet cloth away from her fingers. "Were it not for you I would have bled out. I ignored clear warnings and went off alone into the woods."

"Were it not for me, there wouldn't be any orcs in the woods." She frowned.

"Enough." Thranduil scolded her as best as he could in his state. "You were right to look for protection here." His tone softened. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." She admitted.

"Why did you leave?" Ninimeth saw the pain her king was trying to hide.

"You know why." She pried her fingers from his and took back the cloth, continuing her ministrations to bring down his fever. "Your kingdom needs your undivided attention. Our courtship could have been disastrous at the time."

"What brought you back?" he smiled.

"Legolas wrote to me." She didn't want to give out too much information.

"Why?" he knew her too well. She was hiding something. What had his son told her?

"Your depression at her absence was stealing your concentration from the realm and your health." Legolas walked in with a tray in his hands. "If you had taken proper care of yourself you could have killed that warg in an instant." He placed the tray in Thranduil's lap as Ninimeth stood. "You should get some rest." He told her. At her nod, Thranduil looked at his meal. A hearty stew and a few pieces of fresh lembas bread. A nourishing meal for the invalid. He scowled at the word and pushed the tray away.

"I'm not hungry." He said, looking at the window and wishing the curtains were open.

"Ada, you have to replenish your strength." Legolas pushed the tray back. "I have to go, please eat." He pleaded and passed Ninimeth on his way to the door. "I can't wait for you to get better, ada. I can't sit through another boring meeting." He smiled lightly and closed the door behind him.

Thranduil took a deep breath. It was all he could do not to throw the tray in front of him into the hearth across the room. Ninimeth sensed his irritation and walked back to his side, taking the bowl in her left hand, her right reaching for the spoon.

"I can feed myself." He growled at her as she sat on the mattress.

"I know you can." She spooned a bit of the brown with a piece of potato and blew on it. "I also know you won't." She nudged the spoon to his lips. He glared at her. "Please?" her emerald eyes were tired and concerned. Her back wasn't as straight as it usually was and her hair needed brushing. Still, Thranduil thought she was the most beautiful elleth he had ever seen. He reluctantly opened his mouth and accepted the spoon. It was actually quite good. Ninimeth smiled and blinked tiredly. Thranduil took the bowl from her.

"I can feed myself." He repeated, this time delicately. "Go rest. Relax for a while in a hot bath."

"Will you promise me that you will eat?" her hands were still raised in the same positions they had been while holding the bowl. Thranduil demonstrated as he spooned a piece of meat into his mouth. Her eyes followed his movements and lingered on his lips as he licked them clean.

"Alright." She leaned back. Just as she was standing, the king took her hand in his. She could still feel the fever through his clammy skin. Pulling her slightly closer, he grazed her knuckles with the softest of kisses.

"Thank you." He said. "For taking care of me and keeping this from my people."

"I'm sure Legolas is doing a fine job covering for you." She smiled and squeezed his fingers. "I believe he said that you wanted him to 'test the weight of the crown for a while'." After a moment, she pulled her hand away. "I want you to drink lots of water. You've lost too much blood." She made for the door.

"You may use my bathing room if you wish." Thranduil settled back in his pillows and continued eating.

"Thank you, but my belongings are—" Ninimeth was referring to the pack that was most likely still attached to her poor horse.

"Here." The king looked carefully at her. "After you left, I had the belongings in your quarters brought here." He looked down at his stew. Ninimeth looked around and found a dresser that did not seem to match the decoration.

Thranduil's quarters were very private, no one ever entered, save for dire exceptions such as these. The reddish wooden floor was covered with carpets, thickening as they neared the bed. They were all an eloquent weave of earthy tones and golden threads. One of the walls was completely made up of glass doors, leading to a large balcony, which was shut off from view by heavy dark green curtains. The bed and bookcases all were made from the same reddish wood that went so well with the darker toned floor. The bookcases stacked with scriptures of all languages and subjects. They were not neatly stacked as one would think Thranduil might prefer his things to be, but there was a strange structure of organization in the apparent chaos of scrolls and books that only he could understand. The large hearth was clean of ash, the fire large enough to keep the room warm, but small enough not to interfere with the king's fever.

In the corner, where the room seemed to step away to give space to it, was a dresser Ninimeth recognized as the one that had previously been in her room. On the floor in front of it, was the small crochet rug she had purchased in one of her travels to the Shire. The elderly hobbit lady who made it seemed to favour lace patterns, and it had caught Ninimeth's attention. The dresser was a honey-coloured wood, delicate engravings of flowers adorned the drawers. She stepped closer to it and ran a hand over the familiar wood, noticing how the varnish was faded and worn, as if someone had constantly run their hand over the wood. She looked back at Thranduil, a questioning frown on her face. The king, however, kept his gaze down on his stew. Ninimeth turned back to the dresser and opened a drawer. Everything was as she left it. A bar of soap was hidden under the layers of fabric, the sweet smell of pomegranates wafted to her nose as she took it and a comfortable dress. She turned back to the king and stepped slowly closer. She noticed the tips of his ears were flushed. Bending at the waist, she placed a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you." She whispered as he raised his head, alarm and curiosity showing on his face. Ninimeth smiled at him and turned to the bathing room, closing the door softly behind her.

Thranduil sighed and touched his cheek, looking over at her dresser. How he had longed for her return, for her to shower him with her laughter as he softly tickled her sides, for her to sigh as he threaded his fingers through her hair, for her vivid green eyes to focus raptly on him as he read aloud from one of his many books. And now he was stuck in a bed, still in his hunting trousers. He finished the stew quickly as he heard the water splashing and her relaxed groan. He remembered how she had brought him all the way up to the royal halls by herself. She had probably tended to his wounds by herself. A quick inspection under the bindings confirmed his thoughts as he saw the rows of neat stitches. Making up his mind, he placed the empty bowl back on the tray and drank down the glass of water next to it.

Standing was no easy feat. Eventually, he managed to place the tray on a table by the door, change into soft cotton pants, open the curtains and grab a book before he slumped back to the bed. A sharp pain coursed through his shoulder and he cursed lowly. He had probably torn some stitches. As he listened to the soft humming from his bathing room, he prepared for the earful he was going to get.

And sure enough, the humming stopped abruptly after Ninimeth came back and saw the change in the room. Thranduil turned his head and looked at her. Her dark hair was wet and brushed back, her pale skin flushed from the warm water. The light green dress she wore brought out her eyes, that were examining his latest adventure.

Thranduil lay on his back across the bed, his bare feet still on the ground. His skin was flushed and a red spot slowly grew on his bandages. Ninimeth threw her dirty clothes by his hunting trousers that were thrown by the door for his servants to collect. She walked with purpose to him and huffed angrily.

"It's like treating a child!" she frowned at his sheepish smirk. Placing a hand on his forehead she groaned. The fever had risen. "Come on." She pulled his wrists and made him sit up.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"We need to bring your fever down." She helped him sand on shaky legs. "And fix the damage you did." She looked pointedly at the reddening bindings. Leading him to the bathing rooms, she steered him away from the tempting steam of the hot springs and towards one of the cold pools. He groaned at the thought of stepping into the cold water. "I've poured some minerals in, they should speed up the healing." She ignored his frown and pout as she turned to give him some privacy. He shimmied out of his fresh pants and laid them on a stool so he could wear them later. Taking a deep breath and gathering his courage, he walked down the steps into the cold water and shivered. The water was milky white due to the added minerals, but still very cold to his feverish skin.

Ninimeth turned and knelt behind his shivering form, pushing the locks of silvery hair away and unwrapping his shoulder. Cursing softly under her breath, she went back to the bedroom and readied some supplies as she listened to the king bathe as quickly as he could to escape the frigid waters. After a few minutes, he came back, wearing his loose cotton pants and running a towel through his hair. He sat on his bed and watched as Ninimeth bent to inspect his reopened wound.

"Please don't exert yourself." She sighed as he winced when she started to sew him closed.

"I can't stand being on this bed." He said.

"Then do as I say and get better soon so you can go back to the way it was!" she finished her stitches and applied the strong smelling salve.

"Can it be?" he asked, studying her features.

"Can it be what?" She glanced at him but averted her eyes back to her work.

"The way it was before?" he felt her hands falter and stop over his heart. He knew she felt it beat faster, anticipating her answer. She looked back at him, uncertainty in her eyes. "I haven't courted another elleth since you, Nini." He smiled as her breath hitched at his use of her nickname. "Legolas was right." He continued. "My concentration sways when you're not here. I wonder if you're well, if you're even alive out there." He raised his right hand and held her cheek. "I cannot bear to lose you. Please do not leave again."

"I'm not going anywhere." She whispered and took the towel from him, massaging his scalp softly with it.

~O~

Thranduil was settled back in his bed, a book in his lap as he read aloud to Ninimeth, who was sitting on an armchair by the fire. He finished the page and looked up. She was wrapped up in a dark green shawl from her dresser, feet near the fire and arms around herself. He knew his chambers were fairly cool, but his fever demanded that they keep the fire to a minimum.

"Ninimeth." He called. She looked back at him curious as to why he had stopped reading. "Come here." He pat the mattress next to him.

"What is it?" she asked concernedly as she stepped closer and sunk into the mattress. He could smell pomegranates and cleanliness wafting off her. "Are you unwell? Do you want me to brew you some more tea?" she rested her hand over his forehead.

"No, don't torture me anymore with that vile liquid." He pleaded, taking her hand in his.

"It's good for you." She said. "Your fever hasn't risen, I think by tomorrow morning it'll break." She stood and walked to the curtains, pulling them closed against the sunset. "You should rest." She said, coming back to him and plucking the book from his lap.

"All I did today was rest." He grumbled and held her wrist.

"And you will keep resting until you are better." She suppressed a shiver.

"You're cold." Thranduil ran his hand up her bare arm.

"I'll just grab a—what are you doing?" she asked, watching as the king scooted to his left, raising his blanket to expose his side.

"Get in." He said, a bit of his commanding tone coming back.

"What? Why?" Ninimeth stared at him as if the fever had him delirious.

"I'm feverish and you're cold. It would be wise to take advantage of the situation and even out our temperatures."

Ninimeth knew he made sense, but this was unnecessary. They weren't in the wild, she could simply grab another blanket for her. Though she had to admit, she missed his touches. When she received the letter from Legolas, she did not know if her return would mean he would still want to court her, but their small conversation after his bath had planted a small seed of hope in her. So, she warily toed off her slippers and sat on the bed, tucking her legs under the blanket.

"This is highly inappropriate." She said and settled her head on a small cushion, adamant on keeping a respectful distance from Thranduil. He, however, would have none of that. He turned on his right side and stretched his left arm to pull her against him. He hissed quietly as he exerted his hurt shoulder. Ninimeth's eyes snapped to his bandages and opened her mouth for a scolding, but he shushed her, settling himself more comfortably under the covers and burying his nose in her hair.

After a moment, Ninimeth relaxed and rested her hand on the arm that was wrapped around her middle. She listened as the King's breathing evened out and let herself slowly fall asleep, the warmth emanating from the body next to her warming her down to her toes.


End file.
